Formalities
by L u c i d - C o m p l e x
Summary: ItaHina. It was only because of the formalities of clan politics that Hinata should be courteous to the Uchiha. Non-massacre AU. Oneshot.


**ღ F . o . r . m . a . l . i . t . i . e . s ღ**

Hi. It's me again.

I figured I might as well write something, since it's my fifth anniversary on FFNet.

I personally think it's a special date. 7/7/07 is an auspicious date, so I feel that I should write for an auspicious occasion. Five years, yes?

Anyway. Pardon the rustiness. I haven't written since . . . well, since last year. Figures something like that would happen. It is unexcusable.

I would have made this longer, but since I just finished up two summer courses wherein I lost much valuable sleep, and I've been working constantly, well . . . this is going to be a drabble, of sorts.

Naruto, this time, though. I will still write for Pokémon, just . . . when I find the time. Who knows when that will be. I have a week off (minus working) for fanfiction and social activities, then I'm on vacation for two, one more free week until school starts, then I'll be working, probably doing a sport, and doing an internship or something. Maybe. Yeah, it's gonna be a busy year.

So, let's get started!

ItaHina: It was only because of the formalities of clan politics that Hinata should be courteous to the Uchiha. Non-massacre AU. Oneshot.

So very, very unbeta'd.

**ღ B . e . g . i . n ****ღ**

"Hinata, father seeks your presence."

Blankets on a futon shifted.

"Tell him . . ." A pause permeated the air while a pair of pearlescent eyes peeled open. They met equally pearlescent eyes. "Tell him I will be there in just a moment."

Hanabi bowed her head slightly and shut the rice-paper door, slipping away into the shadows.

Alone, Hinata allowed herself to curl tightly into a ball, and then stretch. She arched her back, unfurling it like a bird does their wings, and reached to one end of her room with her fingers and the other with her toes.

She readied herself quickly, and appeared before her father's office within two minutes.

"Come in," a voice drawled.

Hinata opened the door carefully, and sat on her knees before her father.

He was quick to cut to the chase. "I need you to meet the heir of the Uchiha."

Hinata sat silently, unresponsive. At any other point in time, her father would be proud. But not now. Never now. He had realized the only time she ever sealed off her emotions was in front of him, and he was ashamed. Not because he didn't trust her, no. It was because she should have been that way all the time. He would have preferred her to be a delinquent in the household but an emotionless ninja rather than an emotion-laden ninja who was somber in her own home.

A sigh escaped Hiashi's lips.

"Hinata."

He addressed her by name. She looked up.

"Hinata, this is a necessary measure that we need to take. You are twenty now, almost of age to assume the position of clan head."

She met his eyes with unwavering conviction.

"However."

Her eyes darkened at the mention of the qualifier.

Hiashi continued. "However, that is only when I say you are ready. I realize now that you are a grown woman. You are a ruthless kunoichi, if not in the manner that I deem worthy. But I acknowledge that you are effective. I feel that if you deviated too much from the Hyuuga clan you would have already withdrawn. Since you have not done so, I assume you are still loyal to the clan. Am I correct?"

He was met with a slow blink. He took that as a yes.

"Then your task is this. I want you to meet the heir of the Uchiha and discuss with him the future of the Uchiha and Hyuuga if you were both to become Heads of Clan. You will do this for me?"

Silence drew once again. Tangible tension filled the air. Hiashi held his breath.

Suddenly, Hinata rose. "Yes," was all she said, before she turned and left the room with a flourish of her morning kimono.

**« x o x »**

Itachi was never one to flounder for words. Even in his head was he perfectly coherent. Every word had its place and was put in an intelligible location. So when his father had demanded—nowadays, he was _always_ demanding—that Itachi meet with "that bastard-clan's heir," he couldn't even flounder for words in his head, he was so lost. He had left the room without a word, body cool and perfectly composed.

He wore a cloak, nowadays. When he wasn't in his simple black training tunic and pants, he wore a more traditional, civilian-style wardrobe. His father detested it, and never failed to complain about it on a daily basis. However, Itachi felt the need to exercise his freedom. If he was obligated in many, and almost all ways, to the Uchiha clan, he prided himself in being able to choose what he wore.

The cloak was more of a fangirl safety measure, anyway. Anything he could use as a deterrent, or a distractor, was his best friend.

Girls were slimy, clingy, and _everywhere._

In fact, not one of the kunoichi he met fell outside of that category. So though he had never met the Hyuuga heir—a daughter, obviously—he dreaded the meeting.

And it was going to be _private._ If Itachi had not upheld his status of perfection, he would have gulped.

**« x o x »**

"Little brother."

Sasuke ignored him.

"Little brother."

Nope. Still being ignored.

"Little brother Sasuke."

More silence.

Itachi tried again.

"Sasuke."

He received the bird.

"Sasuke, you're going to have to answer eventually," Itachi prodded.

"Yeah, and eventually is when you fuck the planet in your naked body. And we all know _that's_ never going to happen."

Itachi smiled. _Genuinely_ smiled.

Only Sasuke could do that nowadays. Mikoto lost the ability to make Itachi smile when he was six.

"Little brother, I am honored that you even deign to speak to me. However, this is important, and very necessary."

Sasuke huffed. "Don't you mean necessary and very important? And why are you talking so much anyway? You usually just yell at me with your eyes or something."

"No, I did not mean necessary and very important. It is only _just_ important, but absolutely necessary." He did not respond to the last part of Sasuke's comment, but the look he gave Sasuke was all seriousness.

Sasuke groaned. "Well, if you put it _that_ way. . . . What do you need me to do?"

There was a light silence where Itachi seemed to think about what he was going to say. "Please. Just . . . make sure I'm alive by the end of tonight."

Sasuke quirked a brow.

Itachi returned his questioning glance with a level gaze.

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Sasuke raised his hands in mock-defense.

Itachi relaxed considerably.

"I'll make sure your pretty little white ass is untouched by the end of tonight . . ."

Itachi really did glare this time. Sasuke stuck out his tongue. _Immature. _

**« x o x »**

Hinata padded up to the specified venue. It was out of the way, for Konoha. A small section of town allocated for the very elite. It did not just cater to ninja, but to wealthy civilian as well, and because of that, Hinata could not wear her sandals. She was also forbidden to wear any article of ninja clothing that was not her hitai-ate.

That was how she found herself in a pair of loose, fabric-covered slippers. They were almost blocky like ninja sandals, but they made an excessive amount of noise that made Hinata visibly cringe.

She did not want to be here right now. She did not want to be standing in front of a slightly-crowded restaurant, at dusk, without her usual ninja attire, to be meeting the Uchiha heir who she presumed to be a haughty, stuck-up jerk.

She only gently reprimanded herself for the judgment, but considering all of the Uchiha she had met before—Police members, substitute teammates . . .—she felt her reasoning was justified.

She stepped through the restaurant's glass doors—excessively decorated and not practical at all—and made her way through a throng of people to the host.

_They had even put the _name _under Uchiha!_

"Hello, welcome to the Burning Leaf. My name is Ochikawa. How may I assist you this evening? Do you have a reservation, do you need to make a reservation, or are you a drop-in?"

Hinata regarded Ochikawa and smiled diplomatically. He looked like Naruto, slightly, and that was enough to be courteous to him. He had light brown hair and blue eyes. Poor guy. She was in a sour mood.

"Yes, hi. I'm here for the Uchiha?"

"Oh, oh right! Yes! Of course! My mistake! I'm so sorry for not recognizing you!" Ochikawa floundered and grabbed two menus hastily. He would have tripped over the step leading down into the main part of the restaurant had Hinata not grabbed his shoulder.

"Oh, uhm, th-thank you," he stuttered. She followed him through several dimly lit rooms. All of the seats were of a plush red velvet, and the main lighting came from candles placed strategically throughout the restaurant. The walls were gold-crusted on a maroon wallpaper, and gold spirals and columns jutted from the grounds and rose all the way to the high ceiling. Even the ceiling was elaborately decorated, with sparkling jewels embedded in the painted clouds and twilight sky.

Hinata followed briskly until she came upon the room in the very back of the restaurant. She was ten minutes early, but Uchiha Itachi kneeled in front of the table every bit as poised as if he were her father waiting to reprimand her. She almost expected him to say, "You're late," as she walked through the double doors.

Ochikawa mumbled something, placed the menus on the table, and then slipped away. He shut the doors behind him, leaving Hinata with the Uchiha in a large room that seemed to get smaller and smaller.

The room was every bit as elaborate as the rest of the restaurant, if not more so. She kneeled across from Itachi, folding her hands and putting them on her lap. She held his gaze across from the table, and contemplated running away. Her frown was evident, her eyes were calculating, and she soon realized that she did not _dislike_ this Itachi person.

He was clean-cut. He wore airy clothes, dark in color, that complemented his eyes nicely. His hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck, and his cheekbones were prominent and regal. His dark eyes were set in his face at the perfect distance, his lips were smooth, and his nose was turned up, evident of royalty.

_Or a royal ego._

Regardless, he was a handsome man and was indeed pretty to look at.

But she still didn't want to be here. Hinata was sour, and usually she cowered in front of her father, but this was a bit much.

How could he expect her to meet with the heir of the Uchiha when Hiashi himself didn't even meet with the Uchiha Clan Head, Fugaku?

In any case, Hinata allowed her annoyance to seep through. Any ninja would find this tangible emotion sickening. She was an emotional creature—she cried, she shook in fear, and yes, sometimes she was not incapable of anger—and as a top-rate ninja whose sole trademark was his emotionless façade, he would probably think her emotion was downright sickening.

And she took sick pleasure in that.

Naruto had started dating Sakura months ago. She still loved him, but realized that he never had any sights for her.

Sasuke was probably gay, or didn't care about love in general, or was even immune to or born without the emotion of love, so Sasuke annoyed Hinata with every fiber of his being. Though, that was only after Hinata was beaten to the ground by Neji and realized that she _was_ worth something in the world. Before, she was afraid of anything and everything. And that was why she was considered a failure in her father's eyes in the first place.

She took a deep breath, put on an obviously fake smile and said, "You must be the Uchiha heir. Nice to meet you. My name is Hyuuga Hinata and I am the heir of the Hyuuga clan."

**« x o x »**

When Itachi had arrived at the restaurant, he was a half hour early. Sasuke was . . . _somewhere_ . . . and Itachi said nothing about that fact. Though Sasuke promised to stay nearby, in actuality, he probably found a casino and was gambling away a small fortune by now. No matter. Itachi loved Sasuke and if Sasuke thought Itachi didn't need booty-backup, then he was probably fine.

So when he arrived a half hour early, steeling himself for this meeting, he had not expected his ruminations to be cut short. In walked the heir of the Hyuuga, busty, ten minutes early and emotion rolling off in waves. He almost cringed.

Generally speaking, he could handle civilian emotion because they had little chakra control. They couldn't radiate out emotions like those with superior chakra control, and from what he knew of Hyuuga Hinata, she was a chakra expert.

She abruptly kneeled, and he soon found a menu placed in front of him. She scrutinized him, and he realized soon that he passed. Barely.

She started speaking, finally, and he was met with a honey glossed voice, dripping from the mouth of poison. Her smile was fake and she was polite.

_Father would enjoy a politician like her . . ._ Her introduction was disgustingly clinical. For a moment, Itachi wondered if he had misinterpreted her face, and if she had in fact disapproved of him—immensely. But he talked himself out of that quickly, figuring that he had never been wrong before and he was not likely to start now. So he introduced himself, and their meeting commenced.

**« x o x »**

It was about halfway through dinner that Itachi noticed something _off. _

They had stuck to formalities all throughout the appetizer, and even the obligatory "Excuse me, but I will be back shortly" _bathroom break_ after the appetizer tradition was followed.

It was a well-known fact in high society that women of affluent and influential nature would leave their "dates," for lack of a better word, alone after the appetizer. It was a tradition meant to elicit thought on the part of the man, to decide whether or not he would stay for the rest of dinner. Traditionally, if a date was not going well, at this point the man would get up, pay for the rest of the dinner, and leave, along with his own meal. If it was going well, when the woman returned, the man would still be there and they would continue their meal.

Itachi figured he had no choice but to stay, considering this was _clan politics,_ after all. He sat perfectly still, did not fidget, and when he returned, he knew something was _off._

She spoke, voice still smooth like honey. Her lips were redder though—was it lipstick? Her eyes were brighter though—was it eye makeup? Her skin was glowing—how is that even possible?

"Now," her voice sharpened. He snapped to attention.

"I personally do not agree with this meeting. I realize that you do not, too, am I correct?"

Itachi met her eyes. They were an odd color, silver, but pearlescent. They glowed with something else . . . but there was also a violet tinge too, he noticed.

She nodded, taking his silence as a yes.

"Alright then. This is what I suggest." She stopped speaking, and Itachi hung on her every word. A sort of lightness wafted through the air.

Suddenly, the air darkened considerably. He felt anger, and he was affected too. Somehow, he felt and reciprocated her hatred. It was a filthy feeling, flowing through every vain and blackening the core of his stomach. He was angry, and it flowed up from his stomach to the base of his neck, and through his nose and he felt that he might scream in agony.

"This is what I suggest." Again, Itachi's eyes were drawn to the Hyuuga's. Her Byakugan had surfaced, and Itachi felt a sudden unrealistic fear. Her emotions were spilling into him, and filling the emptiness he had worked so hard to acquire his entire life. All he could feel was anger and rage, and he hated it. Fear, anger, rage, hate, shame . . . soon, every negative emotion bubbled up and the air was suffocating. It was like killer intent. Thick, bloodless, but all-consuming.

And then he realized. It _was_ killer intent.

His blood flowed hot, through his heart through his veins through his brain . . . it filled every crevice until he screamed mentally.

In reality, though, anyone who could not recognize chakra patterns and signatures would see two people staring intently into each other's eyes.

It was endless hatred, and Hinata spat, "Let's work of some steam. I am _fucking_ pissed as hell, and I want to beat something into a bloody pulp."

Itachi heard what she said, but did not register it.

"What do you say? I wanna beat your fucking haughty ass into the floor, and shove a metal pole down your throat. Would you care to be my punching bag? You can fight back too, if you want."

And Itachi hung on every breath she took, feeling the heat and something coiled at the base of his stomach. It twisted and writhed and every awful, evil emotion he felt turned into jello.

Was Itachi afraid?

He looked into her hooded eyes, watched the veins writhing and pulsing in some sick, twisted, morbid fascination, and he smelled her now. He _really _smelled her.

And she smelled like sex.

It was intoxicating, but she wanted to fight.

So when she shunshined away in a flourish of leaves, he dropped a stack of bills on the table and followed her.

She was angry, breathing heavily, and he felt sick to his stomach. In the forest _outside _of Konoha, she screamed and fought him and he was so taken aback by the strength and raw power this seemingly simple kunoichi wielded he never noticed his brother following him.

She was raw emotion – it was like he was fighting demons he thought he had banished long ago. Fervent, undying, and impossible to tame . . . Hyuuga Hinata was the first person in a very long time whom he could not outright defeat. He drained his energy using the Sharingan. His brain, by the end of the fourteen hours, was not working. She was still pissed, but at the end of the night—early in the morning—she seemed more content. He could still feel the occasional wave of anger rolling off of her, but he shrugged it off now.

The two were lying on a rather large tree branch in the wild forest. The sun was rising further into the sky, baking the two who had shed their civilian clothes—damn things required too much effort to stay decent in while fighting. So she was clad in a—now that he thought about it—sexy black bra. Simple, but elegant. It hugged her curves well and did much for her busty figure. Her underwear was the same. Black, sleek, and sexy. It seemed to be like silk, smooth, soft, and reflective of light. It shimmered in the sunshine, and it was a miracle that somehow her undergarments had managed to stay unscathed. He figured she protected them on purpose, to salvage what little dignity she had left.

Regardless, he still found himself staring at this woman he had only just met. She was beautiful. Fair skin, dark hair, light eyes . . . and a hell of a fighter.

He himself was only in his boxers, but that was a much more common sight in the world of ninjas.

She seemed to sleep soundly next to him, but he knew she was only halfway asleep.

He was content to just watch her when her shoulders started shaking.

"I hate him," she cried softly. She turned to face him, eyes watery and bleary. Tears stuck to her eyelashes, and she cried. "I hate him . . ."

Itachi knew who she was talking about. She was talking about her bastard father, Hyuuga Hiashi.

"I hate him," she repeated, and curled into a ball.

Itachi thought about the life she must have lived, and he sympathized.

He had never met a girl who had not fallen for him. He had never met a girl who was real. He had never met a girl who was not clingy.

Until now.

Hinata was strong. She was brilliant, but broken.

And Itachi could sympathize.

So he collected her in his arms, and held her while she cried.

She fell asleep in his arms, and he felt like he finally found a friend in the world.

Itachi held Hinata like the baby girl she was—the broken girl who had put up a façade for so long—and kissed her forehead when the sun went down.

They were both almost naked, but there was nothing intimate about that.

She was a friend he had just made, because of the awful situations they both found themselves in, and Itachi accepted that.

If they fell in love, so be it.

But right now, he was willing to just support her.

She deserved it.

And he knew exactly how she felt.

** ღ E . n . d ღ**

Dammit I did not intend for this to be that long.

Anyway, review please.

But seriously though. Hopefully this isn't shit. I typed this so quickly to get this in on time, tell me if I need to run a re-check to make sure I didn't make any typos . . . Gah I can never win at life. I do what I have to. Most of the time. Anyway. I'm fickle. Don't worry about it.

Have an awesome day. Hope you enjoyed. Maybe. In any case, give feedback!

Reveiws, critiques, flames—wanted, accepted, needed.

[I realize now though, that I should have shown Hinata's portion of the dinner, when she was in the restroom. However, it is late, I should go to sleep, so maybe I'll edit it tomorrow or something for you guys. What do you think? Should I do it?]

love xx  
Jayme  
aka  
[Lucid–Complex]

**Uploaded: 7-7-12  
Updated: None  
Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto  
Story © Lucid-Complex  
DO NOT REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT PERMISSION**


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